Defeat
|} "Defeat" is the second episode of ''Hadithi Ya Hodari''. Synopsis Nurisha's former pride returns from a battle after an unexpected loss. Plot Taala shifted around, trying to maneuver his body into a position that did not allow his soft underbelly to be jabbed by the sharp, sun-dried blades of grass beneath him. It was rarely easy to find a comfortable spot in the dry season, but the drought that had been reigning over the Drylands had sucked every ounce of water from the plants, leaving them stiff, yellow, and painful to lie upon. As he started to flop onto his back, he was surprised to feel his scruff gripped by a pair of firm jaws. Instinctively, he relaxed, curling his hind legs upward and letting his forepaws rest against his chest. He twisted his neck, trying to see who was holding him, and caught a whiff of his mother’s sweet scent. He was only one who still allowed Nurisha to do this, his brothers Jinsi and Ghubari believing that they were too old. He tolerated it knowing that it made Nurisha happy. As she brought him to her den and set him down, telling him that he would be cooler inside, he rested his head on a forepaw, thinking. There was little else to do with the heat outside and the limited space within the den, except . . . he turned towards his mother. “Mother, can you tell me a story?” “So Ushidi’s tale yesterday did not sate you. Did it not give you enough to mull over?” “Mother,” Taala repeated, eager to hear if she would accept or decline. “Yes, Taala. I can tell you a story. Nurisha’s honey-colored gaze, identical to Taala’s, became distant as she thought. “Huh. Well, Taala, I do not know many stories. However, I could share with you a memory from my past.” “Please do, Mother!” Taala begged, standing up on the tips of his paws. “Well, Taala. It might be a bit much for you, but I think you should know. You see, unlike your father, I was not born into this pride. I was born in a pride, far, far away from here, called the Gheriri Pride. I assume you know, Taala, that moyo hodari means ‘strong heart’? Gheriri means jealous anger. The name turned out to suit us very well. We started a war with another pride, for we were envious of what they had. At the time, my mother was pregnant with your uncle, Ajali, and me. I do not remember her very well. I carry faint images of her in my head, but I see them as one sees their reflection in a muddy pool- with dull colors and blurry edges. “During this war, we won some battles. However, we lost others. A memory of one such defeat has followed me throughout my life. Why this particular memory has remained with me after so much time, I cannot say. I have relayed it to no one, all who were present sans my brother and me are dead, and I do not think that Ajali remembers. Once I tell it to you, we will be the only two lions who know the tale. “I lay down under a boulder and burrowed against Ajali, trying to warm myself. It is evening, the sky a field of silver-flecked amethyst as the stars twinkled into view. However, I only pay the beautiful sight a brief glance; my attention is focused upon the horizon, which is tinged a fiery orange color as the sun sinks beneath it. I was waiting for the appearance of a maned silhouette, which would mean the return of the leader and the others who had gone out to fight- which is to say, almost everyone except for cubs like Ajali and me. “‘What is taking so long?’ Ajali asked me. I nuzzled his shoulder gently, trying to comfort him, but did not reply, for I had no response that would improve the situation. Beneath my paws, the ground was hard and cold. I could feel the chill seeping past my paw pads and moving throughout my body, causing me to shiver. I began pawing at the ground, trying to warm myself, and soon soft earth filled the spaces between my claws. Ajali copied me, but unlike me, he did not stop once his paws were caked with dirt. He continued to dig until he had scraped a rather pathetic hollow in the ground, which he promptly curled up in. Soon enough, the sounds of his snoring filled the den. I was not bothered by it; I liked to know that he was sleeping peacefully. "A smile drifted across my muzzle as I gazed at him, his mouth partially open. I held back a chuckle as I realized that he would be waking up with earth on his tongue. However, the laughing mood quickly passed when I remember that my pridemates had yet to return. I crawled into a position on my belly and turned my eyes back to the skyline. Indigo hues are now bleeding across he sky, causing the thick patches of clouds to shed their daylight paleness and take on a grayish cast. I narrowed my eyes, wondering if I would even see the pride leader when he did appear. I was lucky; just as the shadowy shape of a lion appeared, a large cloud moves away from the gibbous moon, soaking the land in its pale, mysterious light. It threw the lion’s appearance into sharp relief. His features were narrow and diamond-like, with high cheekbones and a short forehead. His mane was long and did not seem to have any sort of shape or style to it. It simply hung limply from his head, forming a sheet of reddish fur around his face. The rest of his coat was a warm tan color, broken by areas of lighter fur on his muzzle and underbelly. The light also highlighted the many scars slashed across his face, shoulders, and flanks. They were all a flaming pink color, none of them old enough to have faded. This was the commander of the pride; Jasho was his name. "As he draws closer, the lions around him slowly became visible. I searched the crowd for my mother and father, desperately hoping that they pulled through. Following the last fight, I comforted my friend Mavu after he received the news that his mother had been brutally killed during an attack on the other pride. If this had happened earlier in the war, the carcass would have been brought back to the pride, where it would be buried, but we had long since stopped doing that. Jasho told us that it was a waste of time and muscle, so lions were buried quickly and messily at the site they were killed. One time, my own father had brought me to a battlefield to train. I had seen the bones poking out of the earth, with cords of half-rotted pinkish flesh still draped among them. Flies swarmed around in ugly black clouds, their wings producing a sickening buzzing sound. The poorly concealed bodies spoke of rushed, thoughtless jobs. I do not want the same fate for anyone that I cared about. "I could not see my mother, but I was quickly able to locate my father. Tufts of his thick golden mane had been ripped away from his skin, but his neck appeared unharmed save the loss of hair. He had sustained multiple of what appear to be small and superficial gashes, though I am too far away to be certain of their severity. His expression was cold and stony, his tilleul eyes nothing but pale slits in his face. Relief washed over me as I spot my mother, closely followed by concern as I noticed that she was leaning heavily against another lion. He easily supported her weight, as she was not a hefty lioness, but they were still having difficulty making progress and lag behind the rest of the pride. I force myself to stay put, knowing for certain that I would be ordered back if I approached them. My tail began to twitch, and a shudder ran through my entire body. "The pride neared us at last. In quick, bounding motions I ducked between legs and dodged swinging tails in order to reach my mother. I gently nudged her leg to alert her of my presence. She was quite sensitive, and never failed to notice a light touch such as the one I gave her then. However, for the first time, she did not seem to realize that I brushed against her. Her eyes appeared glassy, like pools of water in the moonlight. Now that I was close to her, I could scent the potent odor of blood. My eyes moved up her chest, and I saw a shocking deep gash that was still pouring blood. It spilled onto the earth, a gleaming crimson puddle that crept towards my paws. I recoiled in horror, hardly able to believe it. The worst injuries I had seen on my mother were bitten ears or clawed sides. The hideous tear surpasses any injury that I had seen on a living lion. "‘Is she going to be okay?’ I nervously asked the skinny lion supporting her, my voice quivering. "‘We’ll see,’ the thin lion replied tonelessly, which did not succeed in reassuring me. ‘Now, go back with the other cubs.’ With one last fearful glance at my mother’s wound, I scurried out of the crowd and rejoined Ajali in the cub den. However, I did not wake my brother, not wanting him to be frightened by the sight of our mother bleeding. Instead, I observed the rest of the pride. They all appeared to be injured in one way or another, from torn claws to slashed faces to shredded fur. I examined them all once more, this time more slowly. None were completely unscathed, and every single one of them was bleeding, several- including my mother- severely. "At the front of the throng, Jasho was slouching, his small orange eyes dark with fury. He was gushing ruby-red blood from various lesions and lacerations, most of them centered around and on his head. He growled loud enough for me to hear, a deep rumbling in his chest, and spat a glistening mouthful of red-tinted saliva onto the ground. ‘I want everyone in front of me,’ he ordered quietly. ‘Now.’ "The pride did as he said, blocking my view. I managed to find a spot beneath the legs of my father; he did not notice me. Now that I was close to him, I could see that his wounds were deeper than I thought, but none are bleeding as badly as my mother’s. Ahead of us, Jasho began to pace, his head held so low to the ground that his mane brushed the earth. As he walked, something shined on the ground, and I noticed that he was leaving bloody prints with each step. After he has turned about five times, he halted and rapidly swiveled his neck so that he was facing the pride. ‘To those who were not present, I address to inform that we lost the battle against the enemy pride. During this battle, we lost Fimbo.’ "I do not know how to feel about the first part. Win, loss, it was all the same to me- at least one lion was going to return dead or grievously injured. However, I have been raised hearing about the terrible things that the enemy pride has done, so it did not please me that they have triumphed over my pride. The death of Fimbo affected me more strongly. I remembered the young lion, so full of loyalty and confidence. ‘We lost, but does that make us weak?’ Jasho continued, his claws protracting. ‘No,’ my father called out in response. "‘Have we defeated the enemy in other battles?’ Jasho cried. "The enemy pride. The enemy. I knew that the other pride has an actual name, but I had seldom heard it. "Once again, my father responded, this time with a barely-articulation cry of affirmation- it sounded more like a roar, perhaps because two other pride members had joined in. "‘Then why did we fail to send them fleeing during this conflict?’ Jasho asked forcefully. This time, he received no answer whatsoever. The pride suddenly appeared uneasy. Jasho glared at us all, eyes roaming across the lions that he commanded. ‘We lost, my pride, because we did not put in our full effort! We have the ability to destroy the greedy thieves as one would flatten an insect pest, but do we employ it?’ Still there was no word from any of the assembled lions. ‘Defeat is a shame that we will not- and cannot- accept. Defeat is a loss for our pride. Defeat will be the deaths of us all. It is too late to back out, not that any of us would even consider attempting such a foolish dead. We have done the right thing in engaging in this war, but now we must defend our decision with our teeth and our claws!’ This time, muttering broke out among the pride. Many of the lions shifted, and I suppressed a squeak of pain as a large paw trod upon my tail. One lioness raised her voice above the rest. ‘If we did the right thing, then why are my sisters dead?’ I recognized the low tones as belonging to Huzuni, a lioness with light fallow fur and two distinctive scars: one thick red cicatrix that parted the fur from her neck to her foreleg and another, older line, this one a dull pink hue, that snaked down her back. "‘Sacrifices must be made in order to achieve success. That is the way the world works, Huzuni. If you cannot handle it, perhaps you should not be here,’ Jasho responded coolly. "Huzuni stared at him with garnet eyes that gave nothing away. The rest of the pride was staring at her, seeing how she would react to our leader’s harsh words, but she did not move. She simply stood stiffly, her gaze conveying naught but emptiness and her short tail curled over her paws. After meeting her eyes for a brief time, Jasho turned away and proceeded with his speech. ‘We have come this far. We cannot let this defeat destroy us! We must learn from this and do our very best next time.’ His flame-colored eyes swept over the pride once again. ‘And now, we must think about our mistakes. Where did we go wrong? What could we have done?’ He stared at us, teeth bared slightly, but no lion gave him a response. ‘Figure it out,’ he concluded, turning and walking into the night. I backed away to the cub den, bumping against four different lions as I did. I muttered quick apologies to each, but I was not given answers. "The pride remained in a group, blood dripping from deep slashes in their dermises, ragged clumps of fur torn away. Their heads hung, and their tails lay limply on the ground. Someday, we will be victorious again. The lionesses will hunt an antelope of some sort, and we will feast while Jasho tells us how well we fought. Laughing words will be exchanged, cheerful conversations will be heard from end to end of our home, and whatever injuries were sustained will be tended to at once. Perhaps one lion will not survive an injury. Perhaps they will keel over as their legs buckle beneath them are their life pours out onto the ground around them. Perhaps they will die during the battle and be left behind to rot away, flesh and muscle dropping away from the bones as the stench of decay leeches into the air from the dead cells, to be eaten by hyenas and hovered over by dipteran insects. They will be overlooked; what is one life, when the rest of the pride emerges alive? But a defeat is different. A defeat means that everyone will be feeling pain.” It took Taala a full minute to realize that the story had drawn to a close. Nurisha had an odd way of saying the last word- it seemed to remain suspended in the air rather than dying away. He blinked rapidly, trying to collect his thoughts, while she gazed at him with melichrous eyes that were suddenly worried. “Did I frighten you?” she asked. “No,” Taala responded, and it was true. Frightened did not feel like quite the right word to describe what the emotion that he was experiencing; it was too strong. He felt more as though his ears were ringing, though it was quiet. “Thank you for the story, Mother.” “Hm. The next one I tell you will be pleasant,” Nurisha decided. Characters In order of mention: * Taala * Nurisha * Jinsi * Ghubari * Ushidi * Azimio * Ajali * Jasho * Changarawe * Mavu * Muwa * Fimbo * Huzuni * Tisa and Cheri Category:Fanfiction Category:Episodes Category:Hadithi Ya Hodari Episodes